


Sound Like a Song

by allwaswell16



Series: When We Were Young [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, American Harry Styles, American Louis, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Coach Louis, Farmer's Market, Gratuitous use of Elton John lyrics, M/M, Many penis jokes, Many vegetable puns, Midwest, Mutual Pining, POV Harry Styles, Pining, Smut, Summer, Teacher Harry Styles, Vegetables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: In high school, Louis Tomlinson lit up Harry’s world like nobody else, even if Harry did most of his pining from the safety of his tightly knit circle of friends. Ten years later, Harry is ready to make some changes. He’s tired of having so many regrets and not taking charge of his life, and he still hasn’t forgotten how brightly Louis shines. He’s about to get a long awaited second chance.Or the one where Harry helps out at a farmer’s market and gives Louis free vegetables.





	Sound Like a Song

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt (HL Yearly Fic Fest 2017): Harry has a stand at the farmer’s market and he sees Louis again for the first time in years. Too bad Louis is there to go on a date with someone else. Harry still gives him free vegetables.
> 
> Part 2 to this fic (Look Like a Movie) which is linked as part of the When We Were Young series is actually a prequel to this fic. So if you would like to read it in chronological order you can start there. My intention is that you would read this one (Sound Like a Song) first, but I wanted to let you know so you can decide for yourself. Hope you enjoy! <3

/// JUNE ///

 

Harry Styles loves his quieter summer months. Not that he doesn’t absolutely love being a teacher for nine months out of the year, it’s just that he puts so much of himself into those nine months that his three month break feels very necessary in order to regain a sense of who else he is besides Mr. Styles.

Harry stands in his classroom and stretches out his lower back, twisting his body back and forth. The students have left, their small hands carrying their backpacks and plastic bags filled to the brim with previously confiscated toys, free books, leftover worksheets, and used school supplies. Harry is alone now, packing away what’s left of the school year.

He smiles when he sees a note has been left on his laptop. It’s from Riley. Every once in awhile you have a student who just clicks with you instantly, and you spend the rest of the year looking forward to all you have to teach them and all they have to teach you. His desk is piled high with small tokens and gifts, but he knows this little note is going to be the thing that he’ll cherish, the thing that will live on his refrigerator for years to come.

_Hi Mr. Styles! Have a good summer! I’ll miss you! When I grow up I want to be a teacher just like you. <3 Riley _

Harry smiles. How many notes like this had he written himself to his favorite teachers? Probably a few. He remembers how many of them in high school and college had tried to talk him out of teaching as though it was a waste of his intellect. None of them could hope to understand the absolute joy and beauty of the delicate balance of strategies a great teacher can use to help a child learn to read. The differentiation inherent in teaching his students to read requires time and commitment and passion. What more could Harry really ask for in life?

Well, perhaps he could ask for more of a personal life. He’s currently finding it slightly difficult to date. He knows he isn’t bad to look at, although he dresses somewhat conservatively at work. He laughs a bit at the memory of what he used to wear to school. In high school he was infamously known to wear a particular self-chosen uniform consisting of jeans, a concert t-shirt, and a blousy, patterned thrift store shirt. Now, his uniform is more of a trousers and polo shirt kind of ensemble. They may be a bit more fitted than most, but Harry keeps himself quite physically fit, and he likes the way the slim fit of his clothes look on him. His one nod to nonconformity would be his hair. He keeps it long, but during school hours, it is always tied back in a bun. On the weekends and in the summer months, he loves to keep his hair loose and flowing.

He finds he’s in an odd transition period of his life. He’s lucky to still be living in his hometown with many of his old friends still nearby, but so many of them have married and started families. At twenty-seven, it just feels like Harry should be getting on with his life, too, but he just hasn’t met anyone very interesting for awhile. For a long while.

College was a different story. He dated quite a bit in college. Nothing serious. Nothing that lasted longer than a year. But it was so freeing to go to college and come out and date boys, when in high school he’d been too afraid.

And now, he gets set up on the odd date here or there. He doesn’t seem to have much luck with any of the dating apps. As he puts the finishing touches on his student’s permanent records and files, he thinks maybe he’ll try a bit harder this summer at asking people on dates. He thinks this may be part of his larger, real issue--he’s always let other people pick _him_. He’s never picked anyone for himself. It’s time that he does the choosing.

For some reason as he hauls out his end of the year gifts, there’s one person who instantly comes to mind when Harry thinks about who he would choose if he could choose anyone. It’s a foolish notion really, someone he hasn’t seen in years, but as he carefully places the gift bags and notes in the trunk of his car, he pictures a pair of blue eyes that crinkle up in the corners when he smiles. He wonders if you can call someone _the one who got away_ , if you never really had them in the first place. He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the idea of missing a person who was never his to miss.

///

It never fails to amuse Harry that Liam is the one who ended up with an organic farm. If people in high school had had a category for Most Likely To Own An Organic Farm, Harry’s name would have been at the top of the list.

It’s a Friday afternoon in June, and Harry is on his way to do what he does every Friday afternoon in the summer. He’s headed out to Liam’s to help with vegetable boxes and to help pack up the trucks for a farm stand stall at the big farmer’s market nearby. It’s warm, but not overly so, which is really something for June in Illinois. He leaves the windows open on his Prius to let the wind blow through his hair as he sings along to _Tiny Dancer_ at the top of his voice.

Eventually, he turns off a paved road and onto an asphalt one and then eventually a gravel one as he turns at the outrageously beautiful sign to Growing Paynes Organic Farms. The sign looks a bit out of place way out in the country like this, but it was a wedding gift from Zayn and most definitely deserving of being displayed prominently.

By the time Harry arrives, Zayn and Ed have already begun working on the weekly vegetable boxes that need to be delivered. The sticker on the side proclaiming “Lettuce turnip the beet!~Growing Paynes Organic Farm.” Harry is still pretty proud of naming both the vegetable boxes and the farm. He shouts out a hello and heads into the house to see what Liam needs from him and to give his goddaughter a kiss on her adorable nose.

“Hello, Miss Lacey Lou.” Harry says as he watches his favorite girl babble excitedly and hold her arms up to him. He picks her up out of the pack ‘n play and swings her around as she screeches in delight.

“She just ate, H.” Liam says from where he’s standing at the kitchen counter assembling boxes. “You’re going to end up with baby puke on you.”

Harry stops swinging her and snuggles her in close. “Well, I wouldn’t mind the puke, but I don’t want to hurt her tummy. Where’s Maggie?”

“Downstairs doing laundry. She’ll be up in a second.”

Lacey starts squirming to be put down, so Harry deposits her back in the pack ‘n play where she immediately turns on a music box.

“So what do you need me to do first? Finish packing boxes with the Zayn and Ed? Or--”

“Nah, I think they’ve got that covered. When Maggie gets up here, she can help you start loading up the produce for tomorrow.” Liam turns around to face him. “Oh, and H? Please, I beg of you, take home a box of the zucchini for yourself.”

“You paying me in zucchinis now, Li?” Harry jokes. Liam pays them all back in a multitude of ways, but nothing monetary.

“You don’t understand how many zucchinis we have. It’s a crop of epic proportions this year.”

“Well, I will surely take my own box of it then. Could make some zucchini bread with it.”

“Believe me. You’ll have plenty to do that.”

When Harry starts loading up the trucks, Maggie indicates the massive box of zucchinis he’s to take home with him. He looks at it in astonishment. “But Maggie. That’s way too many zucchinis! I don’t know what to do with all that!”

Maggie shoots him a look to indicate this isn’t her problem. Harry sighs and hauls the box to the trunk of his small car.

///

Harry arrives Saturday morning about a half hour before the market opens for business. There’s a flurry of activity all throughout the stalls as vendors set up their wares. The market here is a large affair. He passes innumerable items for sale besides the usual produce. Eggs, meat, cheeses, kombucha, baked goods, kettle corn, honey, candy and fudge, crafts, jewelry, pet items, coffee, essential oils. Really, too many things to even name. There are even more vendors and a small cafe and woodfired pizzas in the indoor part of the market.

He dodges people carrying their loads or parking their trailers. When he reaches Liam’s stand, he ties on an apron and gets to work. He’s been helping out long enough that he knows just what to do. He displays the carrots and peppers and potatoes to look as inviting as possible. He’s also put himself in charge long ago of writing up the cute display signs in each bin. The puns Harry writes on the signs have become their own little trademark. Harry likes to think it helps Liam’s stand feel more distinctive. This week he makes sure to give a large space to all the zucchini.

When eight o’clock rolls around and the market begins to flood with customers, Harry places his last little sign on the bin with heads of lettuce bound up carefully.

“Romaine calm.” Zayn says as he reads the sign. “Nice. I like that one.”

Harry smiles and tries to hustle the zucchini to each and every person who approaches. He isn’t completely satisfied with his zucchini sign, _itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot zucchini_ , but it’s all he could come up with.

It’s just he and Zayn working the stand right now. Ed helped set up and then headed off for the day, and Liam is off doing his bi-weekly delivery boxes. Liam will be back after he’s done with deliveries. They have a good system set up. Two guys always ready to man the stand, and the third gets the day off. Harry really doesn’t mind the early wake up call on Saturday mornings. He’s always been an early riser, and it being summer means he can sleep in any other day of the week. The only issue that sometimes arises is when it’s a day like today when it’s just he and Zayn. They’re both a bit introverted to be doing this job together. They take turns dealing with customers. It’s fine. Harry has learned to hide it better over the years. A bright smile goes a long way, he finds, sometimes through gritted teeth when you get the same questions over and over from a few people.

“Is this organic?”

“Where is it farmed?”

“Is it non-GMO?”

“Can I have a sample?”

“Do you have locally farmed (insert something that most certainly doesn’t grow in Illinois here)?

Sigh.

Yes. It’s organic, just as it says right here on this very prominent sign.

It’s farmed at Growing Paynes Organic Farms, just as it says right here on this very prominent sign.

Yes. It’s organic and non-GMO, just as it says right here on this very prominent sign.

A sample? Like you want to take a big giant bite of this tomato and then hand it back or? Going to eat a chunk of this zucchini before you buy?

No, oranges/kiwis/bananas/jackfruit can’t really live through Illinois winters.

By the time Liam returns around ten o’clock, there are usually the strains of someone playing music on the south side of the market. Today it seems to be bagpipes. As soon as it begins, he and Zayn stop in their tracks to stare at each other in wonder for a moment before dissolving in laughter. Not that they’re bad, just--unexpected.

They have a great day in sales, even if they barely made a dent in Liam’s enormous boxes of zucchinis. Liam’s thrilled even if he does have some dark looks for the lettuce guys as they pack up what’s left. Liam’s convinced they’re why he has trouble selling his own lettuce, which is probably true as the lettuce guys put on quite a little show blending up specialized bags in iced bowls for each customer. Harry has a feeling the lettuce guys don’t quite realize Liam considers them his rivals. They wave and shout hello as they pack up their own wares. He and Zayn share a secret grin as Liam gives them a sickly smile and half-hearted wave.

As he drives home to clean up for his family’s weekly cookout, he feels very thankful for the people in his life, the friends he’s had for over a decade and the closeness of his extended family. He knows there’s a piece missing in his life, but he can’t quite figure out how to go about filling it without simply finding the right person. He’s not even really sure how to go about his new goal of taking charge of this aspect of his life.

He talks it out a bit with his sister after a few beers out on their mother’s porch. Gemma listens sympathetically as she twists a lock of her hair around her finger.

“Well, Harry, I quite agree. You’ve let some real idiots choose you in the past.”

“Heyyy.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you deny it?”

“Well, no.” He admits. “But it feels like I finally have the courage to do something about this. So I guess it’s a step in the right direction.”

“Agreed. Now you just have to find the perfect guy! Easy!”

Harry barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Should be super easy. I’m sure he’s right around the next corner.”

“I think you need to break out of your comfort zone a little. Where are you going to meet this great guy anyway? The farmer’s market?”

“Hey, now. I might. Should be a great place to meet someone.”

“Maybe if you ever went and walked around instead of slaving away over Liam’s vegetables.”

“I’m not _slaving_ away. God, Gemma. Very dramatic. It’s fun! And I get to spend time with my friends and do something good for one of them at the same time.”

Gemma sighs. “Okay, but promise me you’ll get out more. And not just to Zayn’s art shows.”

“Again. His art shows should also be a great place to meet people!”

Gemma gives him a look. “And do you ever meet anyone there?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. They make Zayn very nervous, so I’m usually there for him to cling to for moral support.”

Gemma shakes her head. “Harry, I love you, and I love your friends. But you’ve always been a little too dependent on them. You need to break free once in awhile. Just--tell me you’ll think about it.”

Harry grimaces. He knows she’s right. Harry has been hiding out with his friends since he was a freshman in high school. He stays another hour or two in the quiet of the night, just thinking, until the lightning bugs begin to flash.

He thinks about this conversation off and on throughout June, but he finds that it seems to just pass him by like a lovely, warm breeze. July has other plans for him though. It rushes in like a whirlwind.

 

/// JULY ///

 

The brutal July sun has done little to stem the flow of customers this morning. Harry and Ed have barely had a chance to rehydrate in between hustling vegetables back and forth and bagging them up. There’s finally a brief reprieve when Harry can suck down a bottle of water. He nearly spits it out at Ed’s words.

“Did you hear Louis Tomlinson was back in town?”

Harry chokes a bit on his water. “What? He is? How do you know that?”

Ed grins, clearly enjoying this. “Wow. Still got it for him, huh?”

“Shut it, Edward. Just curious, that’s all.”

“Mmhmm. Well, I know he’s back because I see him walking just over there looking at the Miller’s strawberries.”

Harry swings around in the direction of the Miller’s stand, and there he is. Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson in all his glory. Fucking hell, the man is even more beautiful than he remembers. He sees one of the Millers making small talk with him about the strawberries, and Louis gives her a smile that reaches his eyes. Harry can tell even from this distance because he can see how they crinkle in the corners.

He watches the interaction as his mind reverts back to his seventeen year old self, watching Louis in Calculus class. Harry begins to note the differences between seventeen year old Louis and the incredible looking man standing mere feet away. The fringe of hair that Louis perpetually stroked out of his face is now styled up and off his forehead. He still appears to be extremely physically fit, but it’s the body of a man now rather than a boy. As he turns to head to the next stall, the lettuce guys’ stand, the scoop necked shirt he’s wearing reveals the hint of a chest tattoo to go along with all the ink Harry sees splashed across his forearms. He finds that interesting as he would never have taken Louis for a tattoo guy back when they were in high school. He desperately wants to ask the stories behind each and every one. Louis is still fascinating him even after all these years and seeing him again for all of two minutes.

Louis has always been the most brightly shining star in his orbit. In the intervening years Harry hadn’t noticed just how dimly lit the world had become, but now he’s here and Harry’s being blinded by the light again. The anticipation and dread at seeing him and possibly having to talk to him is making his head spin. Louis seems fairly distracted by the lettuce guys. Fucking lettuce guys. They won’t shut the fuck up. In this moment, he better understands Liam’s feud with them.

And then suddenly there he is, right before them, reading all of Harry’s signs. He thinks he’s sees Louis reading “Taters gonna tate.” But instead, Louis glances up, his blue eyes gleaming with mirth, “Silence of the Yams? That’s a good one.”

Harry’s mouth goes dry, and his tongue feels like it’s suddenly too big for his mouth.

“Uh, thanks.” He manages to spit out. He sees in that instant a look of recognition dawn on Louis’ handsome face.

“Harry?”

“Yes? I mean, hi. Um, yes, I’m Harry.”

“Still wearing floral shirts I see.” Louis says with a smile, and Harry looks down at the flowered pattern of his shirt. It does look a bit reminiscent of something he would have worn in high school.

“Yep. I guess I still do. So are you looking for anything particular? Liam’s got a pretty great selection. All organic.”

“This is from Liam’s farm then? Interesting. I would have pegged you for the farmer, honestly.”

Harry smiles ruefully. “We get that a lot actually. I’m a teacher now though, but I like to help him out whenever I can.”

“It’s nice that you two are still so close--Oh, Ed! Damn, you guys are all still friends then? It’s like a high school reunion over here!”

Ed comes out from behind the stand to wrap Louis in a bear hug. “Long time no see, Tommo. Whatcha doing here?”

“I’ve moved back actually. Going to coach soccer at our old high school. Well, that and be one of the school counselors. Anyway, you still playing, Ed? You were a hell of a sweeper back in the day.”

“Hell yeah. We’ve still got a league going around here. Let me know if you ever want in on it.”

“Once I’m settled in, I’ll definitely be interested. Anyway, I feel like I should buy something if it’s from Liam. What do you think he’d like me to buy?”

“ZUCCHINIS.” Ed and Harry say in unison.

Louis gives them a curious look. “Uh, okay. Zucchinis it is. Give me a few carrots, too. At least I know how to eat those. Not really sure what I’m going to do with a zucchini.”

Harry rings up his order and Ed bags it for him. “Well, thanks guys. It was really cool seeing you both again. I’m just going to go stick these in my car. I’m meeting someone here later for lunch.”

“Oh, really? Anyone we know?” Ed asks, for which Harry will always be eternally grateful as he desperately wants to know the answer.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. It’s a first date actually. He’s meeting me in the cafe here.”

And the elusive bubble of hope that had filled Harry’s mind like a helium balloon now has a serious leak and splutters out with a rude noise through his brain.

“Well, see you around!” Louis calls out to them.

“See ya.” Ed calls back.

“See you.” Harry murmurs.

Ed claps him on the back. “Cheer up, H. It’s just a first date. Probably won’t go anywhere. I’m thinking this is gonna be your big chance. I’m almost sure of it. The two of you had it so bad for each other in high school. God, I remember when he got injured in that soccer game and you ran out on the field and--”

“Oh god. Please stop. I don’t want to remember any of the countless ways I humiliated myself in high school.”

Ed wisely shuts up, and they finish their shift just as they always do. Except that now, somehow, everything has changed, which sounds silly even to Harry, but he can’t help but wonder if Ed’s right. Maybe this is his second chance at not letting Louis slip through his fingers again. Even if it’s just as friends.

As Harry leaves, his arms filled with perhaps more boxes than he should be trying to carry, Louis seems to appear out of thin air to help him cart it all back to one of Liam’s trucks. Harry thanks him and watches as Louis hops into a pickup truck with a new window cling emblazoned with their high school mascot and a soccer ball. It makes Harry smile.

///

Harry spends the next week reliving these few new moments with Louis over and over. It’s been years since Louis was heavily featured in his fantasies, mainly because he wasn’t sure how to picture him as a man and not a teenager. He finds this is no longer a problem.

Well, it’s a different type of problem. Now that he has no problem picturing Louis, he’s pretty heavily featured in fantasies that he thinks about multiple times a day. It’s fine though. The man was on a date with someone else, he reminds himself. Although it appeared he left alone as evidenced by him helping Harry with the boxes and then climbing into his truck. So how good could the date have really been? Harry shakes his head. It was a first date. It could have been great, and Louis then has been seeing this other man, this horrible monster of a person, every single day this week. Maybe this jerk has been acting out Harry’s fantasies in real life. Fuck.

Okay, he needs to calm down and stop thinking about this. The problem is that he has nothing but time right now. He tries to fill his week helping out a little extra at Liam’s and babysitting Lacey so they could have a date night. He and Ed catch a movie. He poses for one of Zayn’s art pieces. He haunts his mother’s house so often, she actually asks him why he’s coming by on a daily basis to annoy them. He admits that he’s been there telling even longer winded stories than he usually tells, which is really something. He does not admit _why_ he’s been doing this, and instead, storms off in a huff.

He gets a call twenty minutes later just as he’s making himself a cup of tea at home.

“Mom says you’re acting really weird.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah. I know.”

“She says you keep coming over to talk about high school.” Gemma continues.

“Yeah.”

“She says your stories are even more boring than usual.”

“Heyyy! But yeah, fair.” He groans and flings himself face first on his couch.

“Did you actually storm off and say, _fine I won’t darken your door anymore_?”

“Maybe.” He grumbles.

“Care to tell me what’s really going on?” Gemma asks.

“Ummm--it’s just that--see, last weekend, I--it’s been like ten years so it’s so stupid--but I just can’t stop thinking--okay, like do you believe in fate?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, H?”

“I saw Louis Tomlinson at the farmer’s market last Saturday.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. This actually explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, it does. You were so gone for him in high school.”

“How do you know that?” Harry exclaims as he sits up. God, has he always been this obvious?

“You were pretty obvious.”

“Damn it.”

“So now it’s like your chance to snatch him up then, right? Fits perfectly with all your goals you’ve been going on and on about. Is that what you meant by fate?”

“Um, kind of. I guess. He was there on a date though.” Harry lays back down and covers his eyes with one long arm.

“Eh, just a date. As long as it’s not a boyfriend, I think you’ve got this, Harry. Any chance you can get in touch with him somehow?”

“I don’t know. Maybe through Ed I guess.”

“Well, I think you should go for it. As I recall, Louis was pretty gone for you, too.”

When he hangs up with Gemma, he sips his luke warm tea. It’s just all a lot to think about. When he had thought about how to begin changing his life and getting out of his comfort zone, he hadn’t anticipated having to do that with the one person he’s never quite got over. It’s the oddest thing really, to feel haunted by a relationship that never was.

///

Saturday morning finds Harry on edge,  readying Liam’s stand for the market. Harry curses as he drops the sign for the beets. _You make my heart beet_ , it reads.

“What’s up with you?” Zayn asks.

“What? Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No one on earth has ever said ‘I’m fine’ and meant they were actually fine. That’s like a red flag for _not_ being fine. And anyway, you’ve been acting weird all week.”

“What? No, I haven’t--okay, fine, yes, I have. A little.”

“You just cussed at the beets.”

Harry runs a hand through his long curls. “Do you believe in--oh, I don’t know--destiny?”

A smile grows on Zayn’s face so wide that it takes Harry aback a bit. “So this is all about Louis, then?”

“What? No! Er--well--maybe. It’s just--”

“No.” Zayn interrupts.

“No, what?”

“No, I don’t believe in destiny. I believe you can change your destiny at any time. You have to make your mind up to do it, and then go through with it.”

Harry stops and stares at Zayn for a moment. “Okay.”

He continues sticking in his latest signs into the bins full of fresh vegetables that they’ve carefully arranged to look as inviting as possible. They again have a huge number of zucchinis. Liam says that now each purchase will also come with a free zucchini.

Harry tries to put on his best customer service smile and man the stand with his usual gusto, but he can’t stop himself from continuously scanning the crowds. They finally get so busy around ten o’clock that he can’t keep watching, hoping, that Louis will make an appearance.

He’s getting plenty of attention today though. He always does when he has his hair down. The brown waves are long enough to curl over his shoulders now. The only problem is that it’s pretty damn hot out today, and he’s really wanting to tie it up in a bun. A small shred of hope remains lodged in his chest, and so he keeps wiping his brow but leaves his curls loose. He just feels more confident like this, and if by chance Louis shows up here alone, he wants to feel confident at least in the way that he looks. A small whisper in his mind reminds him that Louis used to call him Curly on occasion back in high school. The hair is staying down.

They’re so busy that they’re actually running low on the tomatoes, so when Liam shows up, Harry dashes back to the truck for more. He’s just approaching the stand with the box of tomatoes when he sees him. He’s a few stalls down, sipping a lemon shake-up as someone tries to sell him a bird house. Harry very nearly drops the box of tomatoes, that’s how good Louis looks sipping a straw looking at someone with amusement. Someone takes the box from him. He’s not even sure if it was Liam or Zayn. He’s too fixated on the sight of Louis in aviator sunglasses looking like a fucking movie star as he seemingly parts the crowd effortlessly. He’s walking this way, but Harry’s brain is slow to react. He narrowly avoids having Louis catch him drooling all over himself.

He glances down at the tomatoes and rearranges the sign, _I love you from my head tomatoes_. His face colors like a tomato when he realizes all his signs this week are about hearts and love. He moves in front of the stand to look in horror at all the signs, much too late to make any changes. He looks up at his friends’ amused faces as they watch him. They’ve apparently already noticed the signs. Assholes.

It’s at this moment that he feels a tap on the shoulder and a lilting voice says, “Hey, Curly. You’re blocking the tomatoes.”

He turns to look at Louis, trying his best not to show his inner turmoil. “Um, sorry. Just uh--fixing the signs.” Damn it. Why did he bring up the signs?

Louis scans the signs quickly. “Huh. The signs are very cute today.”

“Thanks.” Harry mumbles, trying not to die.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “So you made the signs then?” Before Harry can answer, Louis snaps his fingers. “Oh, right. I seem to remember you making terrible jokes in high school, too. I guess some things never change.”

“Heyyy.” Harry protests as Louis smirks. “I think I remember you laughing at some of those jokes.”

“I’m sure I did. I’ve never been known for my subtlety, Styles.”

Harry’s not sure what to think of that, but he needs to keep Louis here and talking. “So what are you looking to buy today?”

“Not sure, really. Something easy to prepare I guess. Carrots? Cucumbers?”

“Well, we have both. Plus, Liam will throw in a free zucchini.” Harry tries to use his customer smile, but he has a feeling that instead he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Nice. I still don’t know what to do with a zucchini, but yeah, I’ll take a few of both.”

Zayn and Liam pretend to be very busy, so Harry takes a few of the best carrots and cucumbers and puts them into a bag for Louis and gives him a price.

As Louis hands over the money, he asks again about the signs. “So what’s up with the signs, Styles? Are you in the honeymoon stage or something?”

“What?” Harry looks at him, a deer in the headlights.

“Well, your signs are pretty soppy. Thought maybe you were seeing someone new and walking around with heart eyes twenty-four seven.”

“Oh. Um. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Guess I just thought I’d go with a theme this week.” Honestly, he’s pretty proud of himself for thinking of this off the top of his head. “Yep, maybe I’ll start doing themed vegetable puns each week.”

Louis laughs. “Well, I’ll have to come back and see that then.”

“Yeah, uh--you definitely should. Come back. Er, for the vegetables--and the signs.”

“Right. I will. See ya around, guys!” Louis waves at the three of them as Zayn and Liam call out a ‘see ya’ as Harry says goodbye with stars in his eyes.

He’s dreading turning around to look at his friends. He groans and  turns to look at them. They both burst into laughter. Zayn is actually crying real tears. Fuck them. “Fuck you guys.”

When they begin to calm down, Liam hands him a zucchini. “You forgot to give him this.”

“Damn it.” Harry sighs.

“Yeah, in fact, give him like five zucchinis. Or maybe ten--” Liam looks at the enormous amounts of zucchini and sighs.

Zayn puts ten zucchinis in a bag and hands them to Harry. “Go find him.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll just put them in his truck or something.” Harry says as he begins to walk towards the parking lot.

“Lame!” Zayn calls out as Harry ducks between stalls making his way towards the lot.

It’s really not a great solution because there are multiple large lots for parking. Harry sighs and decides to look where Louis parked last time. He gets lucky and sees Louis’ truck sitting in nearly the same spot, the truck recognizable with the soccer decals. The doors are locked, so Harry just carefully places the bag in the bed of the truck next to a bag of soccer balls and heads back to the stand with a smile.

///

His interaction with Louis leaves his head in the clouds for most of the day. He runs a few errands and floats home. He sings Adele songs at the top of his voice as he bakes zucchini bread and zucchini brownies and a zucchini cake. He’s happily in an odd bubble that is reminiscent of how he always felt in the past whenever Louis singled him out for his attention. It’s addictive. It always was.

When his phone buzzes, he automatically picks up before he’s thought through that he’d probably rather not talk about it with his sister just yet. It feels so fragile as though if he touched it the bubble would burst. Gemma immediately pops it in the way only an older sister can.

“So did you see Louis today?” She asks.

“Oh, uh, yes. I did.” Harry replies, swiping a hand across the back of his neck.

“And did you talk to him?”

“Well, yes. I did. He bought some carrots and cucumbers.”

“Did you talk about anything besides vegetables?”

“Well--”

“Please tell me you talked about more than vegetables.”

“Do my vegetable pun signs count?”

“Oh my god.”

Harry’s bubble is not only burst, but Gemma is stomping on the remains.

“I gave him free zucchini. Well, I kind of gave it anonymously, but he may have realized it was me!”

“You gave him zucchini.” Gemma states this as a fact she can hardly believe is real.

“Yes.” He answers.

There’s a short pause and then a sigh on the other end of the line. “But Harry! What about all your plans and goals? What happened to making things happen for yourself?”

“I don’t know! I mean, I _do_ know, and I’ll try harder next time.”

“If there even is a next time. How many times is Louis going to go to the farmer’s market?”

///

Harry spends the next week alternating between being deliriously happy that Louis is back home and kicking himself for not doing something about it. Everyone has noticed he’s a bit jumpy. Even his grandmother scolded him for being annoying at her 84th birthday party. He apparently was drumming his fingers incessantly. Honestly, he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it. It’s just that he absolutely can’t wait for Saturday and the possibility that he’ll be seeing Louis.

On Friday, he drives out to Growing Paynes blasting Elton John as usual. This time it’s _Your Song_ that he’s got on repeat. No real reason he’s chosen this one.

“ _And you can tell everybody that this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done. I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words. How wonderful life is now you’re in the world._ ” Harry belts out alongside Elton John’s distinctive tenor.

He’s still blasting it as he turns onto the gravel road and up onto Liam’s driveway. He hums it as he sways and dances his way into the house. He’s the first to arrive though, so he’s stuck assembling boxes in the kitchen while Maggie plays on the floor with Lacey.

“What’s that you’re humming?” Maggie finally asks.

“What?” Harry hadn’t even realized he was still humming. “Oh, uh--Elton John.”

Maggie raises an eyebrow. Harry listens to a lot of Elton John. Harry sighs. “ _Your Song_.” He mumbles.

“Ah. Of course.” She says with a wink.

Harry pulls a face.

“Don’t make faces at _me_ , Harry Edward. I bet you haven’t “forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue” like Elton though.”

Harry huffs out a snort. “Please. Louis is practically famous for his big, blue eyes.”

“Famous, huh?”

“You weren’t around in high school, Maggie. I promise everyone from high school knows what color eyes Louis has.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry isn’t sure when Zayn and Ed arrived, but they walk into the kitchen with Liam, ready to retrieve the boxes.

“What color eyes does Louis Tomlinson have?” Maggie asks.

“Blue.”

“Blue.”

“Blue.”

Their responses come out simultaneously. Harry barks out a loud, honking laugh that he tries to stifle.

“Well, dang. I need to see this Louis with the famous blue eyes, then.” Maggie declares. “Maybe Lacey and I will have to show up and help man the stand tomorrow.”

“Oh god.” Harry says.

///

Harry awakens early to take a shower before he heads out to the farmers’ market (which he never does before going to the market). He tries on multiple outfits until he’s satisfied with how he looks (which he definitely never does and in fact usually wears whatever is halfway clean). He carefully works product into his hair, so he can leave it down and curling over his shoulders (which again he never does and instead usually wears it tied back in some way).

Harry is the first to arrive again and is very thankful when Liam shows up with the truck. He still has an enormous amount of zucchini.

“Seriously, what are you going to do with all these zucchinis, Li?”

“I have no idea.” Liam admits as Harry affixes a sign that reads, _Kick Some Asparagus_. “But definitely give some for free with each purchase. However much you want. Feel free to give Louis a whole box of them.”

“Shut up, Liam.” Harry mumbles as he arranges the lettuce bundles and places the _Lettuce do our best_ sign in the best viewing position.  

“Wow, Harry. Looking good!” Ed says as he appears next to the stand and begins tying on an apron.

“Thanks.” Harry murmurs.

“Some reason you’re dressed like a rock star today?” Ed says as he dissolves into laughter with Liam.

“I’m not dressed like a rock star! This is a perfectly ordinary shirt and jeans!” Harry insists.

“Okay, H.” Liam nods condescendingly. “Your shirt is barely buttoned and your jeans look like they probably took a while to paint them onto your legs.”

“Just a regular old day at the farmer’s market and then you can head straight to your headlining gig at Summerfest!” Ed says as he thumps him on the back.

“I hate you both.”

The weather is fairly mild today for July, which Harry is thankful for considering he’s dressed like a complete idiot. A completely obvious idiot apparently. The morning starts off slowly, but by ten o’clock they have quite a few customers and some long time ones who have stopped to chat with Liam about doing weekly delivery boxes. Harry actually is busy enough that he doesn’t have time to scan the area for a possible Louis sighting around the time he’s seen him the last two weeks. He finishes with a customer who compliments him on his shirt as she seems to be trying to get a look at the tattoos that peek out from beneath it. He smirks a bit, but it dies a quick death when he hears a certain voice.

“A lot of zucchini here.”  

He whips around to see Louis looking better than anyone has a right to look. He doesn’t look like he’s tried too hard like Harry did. No, he’s wearing a plain, white t-shirt, but he’s wearing the hell out of it. It’s thin and looks soft to the touch and showcases the slight tan of his skin. It’s fitted enough that the curves of his body are on display. The ripped jeans are rolled up at his ankles as though they were much too long, and Harry wishes he had a reason to drop to his knees to examine them more closely. Harry’s mind has been short circuiting, and he has the sudden thought that he’s probably very obviously ogling Louis right now. His eyes shoot back up to Louis’, and he sees the recognition of his thoughts there on his face. Also, he has no idea what Louis said to him.

Harry clears his throat. “Um, what?”

“The zucchinis. You have a lot of them.” Louis repeats.

“Oh. Uh, yes. We do. Bumper crop this year.”

“Interesting.”

Liam nudges him hard. “Yeah, uh, oh right--free zucchinis with every purchase!”

“Well, guess I’ll have to get something then.” Louis says with a grin. “Can’t pass up a deal like that, now can I?”

“Nope.”

As Louis peruses the vegetables and reads all the signs, Harry tries to think of something--anything--to keep the conversation going. However, what he ends up saying is this: “So you here for a second date?”

Fuck. Not what he meant to say.

Louis looks confused for a moment. “Oh, with that guy from a few weeks ago? Nah. I don’t think we had much of a connection.”

“Oh, too bad.” Harry says. He can’t help the smile he can feel spreading across his face.

“Yeah, your dimples are really saying how sorry you are about that.” Louis says, but Harry honestly can’t seem to wipe the smile from his face. “But yeah, too bad. I think it might have been a little bit my fault though.”

“Why would you say that?” Harry asks. That obviously can’t be true. He’s sure the other guy was just not worthy.

“Well, I spent a lot of the date thinking about someone else. Someone that I used to know. So I thought that probably wasn’t the best sign.”

“Oh.” Harry’s heart has dropped into his stomach. “Um, yeah. Probably not a good sign. I mean, for that guy. Er, but maybe a good sign for something--”

“Hey, Lou!” Ed says as he finishes with a customer and slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders, inserting himself into their conversation. “Let me give you my number if you ever want to join our soccer league.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just text yourself and then you’ll have my number, too” Louis says. He pulls out his phone and hands it to Ed, who quickly texts himself and hands it back.

Harry eyes the exchange enviously. Not that he’d know what to do with Louis’ number anyway. Louis smiles at him and hands over a bundle of carrots, and Harry rings him up. He watches with a pathetic sigh as Louis waves and saunters off, his hips swaying deliciously.

Ed taps him on the shoulder.

“What? I know I’m ridiculous, okay? You don’t need to tell me.” Honestly, he’s glad Maggie decided not to come today, or his humiliation would truly be complete. He’s already never going to live any of this down. He turns and sees Ed holding out a large fabric bag filled with zucchini.

“Oh. Right.” He grabs the bag and heads off in the direction of the parking lot. He finds Louis’ truck back in its usual spot. The door is unlocked this time, so he places the zucchini on the passenger seat and buckles it in. Safety first.

///

Harry spends the next week being even more insufferable than he has been. Saturday is supposed to be his day off from working the stand. He and Ed play video games Tuesday night. He doesn’t mention it. He and Zayn go see a movie Wednesday night. He doesn’t mention it. Liam and Maggie invite him over for dinner Thursday night. He doesn’t mention it.

It all builds up inside him until Friday afternoon as he carts yet another crate of zucchinis out to Liam’s truck.

“So if anyone wants to switch for tomorrow--”

“Oh, for fuck’s saaaaaaake!” Zayn shouts.

“What? I just--”

“Guys, he finally fucking said something!” Zayn shouts out in the direction of where Liam and Ed had been packing boxes. “You both owe me ten bucks.”

Ed and Liam trudge over and begrudgingly hand over their money.

“I had Friday.” Zayn explains. “Ed thought for sure before today. Liam thought you weren’t ready this week.”

“So anyway, don’t worry about it.” Liam says. “We’re all going tomorrow. Maggie is coming with Lacey, so I’ll probably mostly walk around with them. We could use three people there tomorrow if I’m not able to help much.”

“So you ever going to say something or what?” Ed asks. “What are you waiting for? I’ve got his number right here if you want it.”

Harry stomps off to the house. He’s going to go hang out with Lacey for a while and forget these haters.

But he’s definitely still showing up at the market tomorrow.

///

Okay, it’s not that Harry doesn’t want Louis’ number. It’s just that he feels like he should get it himself, not get it from a friend. If he’s going to call and ask Louis out, he wants him to know it’s coming. Or at least this is what he tells himself.

He changes his outfit at least a dozen times, trying to look as good as possible without looking like he’s trying to look good. If that makes any kind of sense because right now Harry isn’t feeling like he makes a lot of sense. He flings himself across the bed and tries to talk himself down.

He can feel his cell phone buzzing. He keeps his face pressed into the mattress as his hand searches for the phone. He finds it.

“Hello.”

“H. Get off your bed and put some clothes on.” Gemma says on the other end of the phone.

“What? How did you--”

“Go put on your bright blue t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Or black jeans if you must.”

“Um, okay.” He scrambles off the bed and quickly locates his blue t-shirt. He tugs on some jeans as Gemma gives him a few more directions.

“Leave your hair down. It makes you more confident in social situations.”

“Gems, what if he doesn’t--”

“Please. He’s definitely showing up today. Just--try and do something about it okay?”

“Right. Do something. I’m on it.”

///

Okay. He’s got this. He blasts _Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me_ and really tries to feel it.

“But you misread my meaning when I met you. Closed the door and left me blinded by the light. Don’t let the sun go down on me. Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see.” He sings dramatically into a discarded water bottle as he heads down River Drive towards the farmer’s market.

He’s ready.

He marches determinedly to the stand. Zayn and Ed arrive shortly after him, and they all make rounds to and from Liam’s truck, placing everything in their usual bins. When everything is displayed properly, Harry adds his signs. As he places the kale sign ( _Kale me maybe_ ), he again notices that his signs tend to reflect his life. He wonders how long this has been going on. Probably a while.

Eventually, Maggie shows up with Lacey, so Harry gets to spend a few minutes with his goddaughter before she’s being put back in her stroller for a perusal of the market.

“So what time do the famous blue eyes usually show up?” Maggie asks.

Harry’s not going to pretend he doesn’t understand what she means. “I mean, I don’t know, Mags. I haven’t really noticed a certain--”

A chorus of voices answer more directly.

“Ten.”

“Ten.”

“Ten.”

“Great. I’ll be back a few minutes before ten.” Maggie says with a backwards wave.

Harry is thankful when customers begin arriving, and he has something he can do with his hands. He’s built all this up in an attempt to psyche himself into this, but instead it’s beginning to feel so horribly awkward that he’s not certain he’ll be able to do much of anything if Louis actually does show up.

He’s replenishing the carrots when he nearly drops the ones in his hands at the sound of Louis’ voice.

“Think I’ll go with my usual carrots today. Hard to mess up carrots, don’t you think?”

“Uh, hi. Um, yeah carrots are pretty easy. Just wash and then eat if you like them raw.”

“You know what I really need?” Louis asks as he looks at the box of zucchinis. Harry swears there are even more of them this week than there were last week.

“Hopefully, you need more zucchini. We have a lot of it.”

Louis huffs out a laugh. “No, not zucchini. I seem to have plenty of it. It keeps mysteriously showing up in my truck for some reason.”

“Hmmmm. Yes, that’s a little odd.” Harry agrees, not really trying very hard to hide the smile on his face.

“Speaking of the zucchini though, what I really need are recipes or someone to point me in the correct direction of a YouTube video on how to cook with zucchini. Because I have a lot of zucchini that I don’t know what to do with.”

Harry instantly perks up. “Oh! There are so many things you can do with zucchini! You can bake with it and make zucchini muffins or bread or brownies or cake! You can make baked chips or zucchini fries. Obviously, you can just sautee them in a bit of oil and--”

Maggie suddenly appears right between them, holding Lacey on her hip. “Well, who have we got here? Got Harry giving you cooking advice?

“I could use the advice, believe me. Hi, I’m Louis Tomlinson. Went to high school with Harry here and all the guys in this stand actually.”

“Hi, Louis. I’m Maggie, Liam’s wife. And this is Lacey, our daughter. Well, if you want cooking advice, Harry is definitely the one to ask.”

“Er, thanks Maggie.” Harry says before he turns back to Louis. “I was just thinking that maybe I could email you a few things, recipes or--.”

It’s too late though because Louis has already become captivated by Lacey. He’s making funny faces at her and laughing when she laughs and hides her face in her mom’s side. He makes rude noises, and Lacey bursts into a fit of giggles the likes of which Harry has never heard from her before.

Harry’s heart twists in his chest as he watches their interaction. It takes a few minutes before Louis abruptly straightens and glances back at Maggie and Harry. “Uh, I have a lot of younger siblings. I sort of get silly around babies. Sorry.”

“Oh, no, don’t apologize!” Maggie insists with a bright smile. “She clearly already gives her stamp of approval.”

Louis looks as though he’s going to make his exit, so Harry knows he’d better say something--anything.

“Um, so anyway--your email--er--” He says, making another attempt.

“Oh! Yeah, okay. Recipes. My email is pele28@gmail.com. I’ll keep an eye out for it.” Louis promises with a sideways grin.

Harry smiles to himself over the email address. He wonders if 28 is meaningful or just a number. Okay, email address. It’s a step, right? Not as good as a phone number, but it technically is some kind of contact info.

Louis waves as he continues on to the lettuce guys, much to Liam’s dismay if the sour look on his face is anything to go by.

“Email address? Really, Haz?” Zayn frowns.

“What? It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Barely.” Ed mutters as he packages up tomatoes for one of their regular customers.

Harry sighs as he watches the damn lettuce guys charming Louis into buying lettuce.

///

Harry waits two very anxious days before sending his best zucchini recipes. It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to compose the email, which in the end sounds entirely too casual. But really, how much can you really say in an email about zucchini recipes? He anxiously awaits a reply that takes nearly twenty-four hours to come. The response is a very casual thank you and signed Tommo. Harry stares at the reply for entirely too long, trying to determine if signing it _Tommo_ is better or worse than signing it _Louis_.

He thinks about putting on Elton John’s _I Want Love_ on his way to Gemma’s, but he’s not that despondent yet. He must be acting strangely though because she calls him on it almost immediately.

“Oh, Harry.” She says with a shake of her head. “An email? Really?”

“What? How else am I going to send recipes?”

She gives him a look. “You know this isn’t about zucchini, right?”

He flops face first onto her long sectional couch. “Yes.”

She brings him cookies and wine, and they curl up on the couch to watch a movie. He votes for a rom com, but she vetoes his pick, and they end up watching Captain America. Again. Not that he minds that much though really. I mean, he’s got cookies and wine, and Sebastian Stan is very easy on the eyes. Not a bad way to spend an evening. He wonders though how Louis is spending his Wednesday night.

///

Friday afternoon finds him back at Liam’s as usual. They finish up fairly early, and he and Zayn and Ed head out to their favorite bar and grill for a drink and dinner.

The bill arrives, and they throw down some cash on the table to cover the tab. Ed looks past Harry over his shoulder and asks, “Hey, isn’t that Louis’ little sister?”

They all turn around to look, completely conspicuous. Lottie has just sat down at a booth a few away from them with a guy, probably her boyfriend. And then, just as they’re all staring in that direction, in walks Louis. Great. They’ve been caught.

They’re so obvious that Louis immediately notices them. He raises an eyebrow and waves as Harry’s cheeks flood with warmth. Ed’s already standing and heading over to their table before Harry can even process what to do. Zayn meets his eyes and shrugs, and they both follow Ed to the table.

Apparently, Ed and Louis have already been in contact about the soccer league because Ed is already chattering excitedly about a great goal Louis apparently scored last night in a game. Harry is itching to berate Ed for not telling him sooner about this, but he also knows he can say nothing about it without having to answer too many awkward questions about why he wants to know if he’s not going to do anything about Louis.

He and Zayn just stand off the side of the booth as Ed carries on this conversation. Harry can barely take his eyes off of Louis, but he does for a brief moment realize that Lottie is looking at him with a speculative look on her face. He quickly looks away and tries to keep the blush from his face.

When it looks as though Ed is finishing up the play by play of the game, he feels his heart begin to thrum in his chest. He should say something. He should do something. He can feel the adrenaline coursing through him. It’s making his fingers twitch.

“--with all those zucchinis.”

Fuck. Was Louis talking to him? He got distracted by his own nerves. His eyes snap back to Louis’. He’s looking straight at him.

“What?” He asks weakly.

“Oh, I was just saying I don’t really know what to do with all those zucchinis. I know you sent me those recipes, but I don’t know if I’ll really be able to follow--”

Lottie snorts. “No way is Lou going to be able to follow a recipe and make anything out of zucchinis. Not without a lot of help.”

Harry tries his best to control his facial expressions, but he isn’t exactly known for being able to control that very well. This sounds like a good time to say something. Zayn elbows him in the ribs.

“Oof. Uh--I could--um--teach you? Or help or something if you actually do want to--”

“Cool, thanks, Harry. Well, I don’t really check my email that often especially in the summer. So why don’t you just text me?”

“Um, okay, I’ll just--”

Ed plasters a wide smile across his face as he slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders and starts dragging him towards the door. “Great! I’ll give Harry your number, Lou! Harry’s a great cook! You’ll be in good hands.”

 

/// AUGUST ///

 

July has whirled through Harry’s life upending it with a second chance that he is still willing himself to take. August’s oppressive heat now bears down on him like a stack of bricks on his chest. He literally drips with sweat every time he steps out of his apartment. Now, he finds himself sweating sitting at his kitchen table with the air conditioning turned down low. But that’s more about trying to text Louis than anything to do with the humidity.

He tries that night after the bar, but he can’t go through with it. He tries the next morning around nine, but he can’t go through with it. It’s torture not being busy at the farmer’s market today. He didn’t go as it’s supposed to be his free weekend, but he wishes he had. He needs something to keep him busy instead of pacing his kitchen. What if Louis shows up today? It could have been another chance to talk to him. By nine-thirty he’s in his car and headed towards the market. He’s just going to walk around. He never gets the chance to walk around, and if he runs into Louis who usually shows up at ten o’clock, well, so be it.

He tries to avoid Liam’s stand, so no one sees him, but when it nears ten, he edges his way closer to keep an eye out. He stays an aisle of stands over and pretends to be interested in artisanal cheeses, but Louis doesn’t show. With a heavy sigh, Harry walks aimlessly through the rest of the market. He very rarely browses the other stands, usually too busy with Liam’s, and he doesn’t usually come on his free weekends. Eventually, he buys a beignet from one of the vendors and sits on a curb to eat it, feeling sorry for himself. He people watches the crowds that flow by him. Older couples walking hand in hand, families teasing each other, small groups of friends deciding what to eat, moms with babies in strollers or wraps. He even spots a meteorologist from the local news.

He sits until his back starts to hurt. He stands and stretches and takes a long backwards look at the market before he leaves with his thoughts. He takes the long way home along the river, blasting _I Want Love_.

“I want love on my own terms, after everything I’ve learned. Me, I carry too much baggage. Oh man, I’ve seen so much traffic.” He sings as he lets himself sink into his self-wrought misery. “But I want love, just a different kind. I want love, won’t break me down, won’t brick me up, won’t fence me in.”

Even he knows he’s being overly dramatic.

He pulls into his apartment complex and trudges back up to his apartment. He flips on the tv, but he doesn’t really pay attention to it. He gulps down a bottle of water. He’s sticky from the sweat that cooled on his body during the drive home in the air conditioning. He takes a long shower during which he berates himself for being so ridiculous. Why is it so fucking hard to take a chance? A small whisper in his mind says it’s because this chance means so much to him, too much maybe.

When he finally emerges from the shower, he notices he has a text from Zayn asking him what he’s doing and whether he’s called Louis yet. He sighs and sits on his bed, still in just a towel wrapped around him.

He brings up Zayn’s number and presses it.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Whatcha doing? Did you call Louis yet? Or is that a stupid question?”

Harry flops back on his bed, his wet hair leaving a damp spot on the comforter. “No, I haven’t called. I tried! Like eighty-four times, but I just can’t manage to do it.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes.” Harry answers hopefully.

“Fine, but I’m only coming if you’re really going to text him.” Zayn warns.

“Okay, yes, fine.”

There’s a knock on his door ten minutes later, and he ushers Zayn into the kitchen where Harry stares at his phone as if it was a poisonous snake. His heart beating triple time.

“I think you should just do it. Quick and get it over with. Rip off the bandaid, Harry.”

“Um, okay, but like the bandaid is ten years old and I’m pretty scared it’s gonna rip my skin off.”

“I honestly don’t know what to say to that.”

Harry picks up the phone. Step one, he thinks. “Okay, it’s just that Louis is like the sun, right?”

“Oooookay.”

“And I’m like just a little planet orbiting around him. Why would he notice me? I’m like Pluto. Just a dwarf planet. Maybe I’m just a moon of a planet that’s orbiting the sun. Like one out of the fifty-three moons of Jupiter. There might be even more of them now. It takes a while for moons to be confirmed--”

“Harry!” Zayn interrupts.

“What?”

“You’re not a fucking Jupiter moon.” Zayn says sternly. “You were never a fucking moon, Harry. You weren’t a moon in high school, and you’re not one now. I know what it was like for you in high school. I know that you found it difficult to be noticed, and so you tried to hide yourself away. But I’m here to tell you that it never worked. You were never anyone’s moon of Jupiter. It’s time to stop hiding and move on.”

Zayn takes the phone from his hand and presses the screen a few times until Louis’ contact information appears. He pulls up a text message and hands it back to him.

“Louis looks at you like you’re a fucking meteor shooting across the sky. You should really give him a chance.”

Harry smiles.

“What?” Zayn shrugs.  “I thought we were going with a space theme.”

With his heart in his throat, Harry shakily types in a few words.

_Hi. This is Harry. Just wondering if you still want me to help you with your zucchini._

He presses send before he can change his mind. He slides the phone across the table to Zayn who bursts into hysterical laughter.

“WHAT? WHAT?” He rereads the message and nearly chokes. “Oh god. Oh god, why did you let me send that?”

“You sent it before I could see it!” Zayn insists, wiping away tears.

Dots appear indicating Louis is texting back, and Harry feels like he might pass out.

The first things that appear are emojis. A smirking face followed by a chef.

Harry hides his face in his hands. He hears the ping of another text and reads it through his fingers.

_Yes, I’d definitely like some help with my zucchini. When do you think you’d like to come over? I’m free tonight actually._

Harry stares at the message, wide eyed. Zayn stands up and claps him on the shoulder. “Proud of you, Harry.”

Zayn looks as if he’s going to leave, so Harry clutches his shirt tightly. “Don’t leave! I need help! HELP ME!”

“Well, first text him back and get his address and tell him you’ll be over right after you have a nervous breakdown.”

“Right! Right.” Harry fumbles with the phone and texts back. He glances up at Zayn. “You’re a good friend, Z.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I know.”

///

 Harry changes his outfit multiple times, but he finally decides that even if they are cooking tonight, he’s going to go all out. This is it, his second chance. He’s got to go for it. He shrugs on his favorite blue button up shirt, a faint pattern woven into the fabric. He leaves the top few buttons open, his cross chain dangling across his chest, and puts on his tightest pair of jeans.

Louis only lives about ten minutes from his apartment, so he gives himself a few extra minutes to get there because even if he’s terrified, he still wants to spend as much time with Louis as possible.

He finds Louis’ place easily and sits in his car staring up at the apartment building. He finally turns off the engine, so he’ll be forced to get out of the car quickly or risk end up dripping with sweat. His stomach churns nervously as he makes his way down the long sidewalk and up into the building. He finds the correct apartment number and takes a few deep breaths.

As soon as he knocks, the door is flung open.

Louis’ eyes rake over him from the tips of his boots to the waves of his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Um, hi?” Harry says. Damn it. He hates when he says things that sound like a question when they aren’t a question.

“Oh, right. Guess I could let you in, huh?” Louis says, his voice slightly higher pitched than normal as he sweeps his fingers quickly across the hair that falls over his forehead and leads Harry into the living room.

Harry glances around at the room, a large flat screen television dominating the space. Video game controllers gathered in a pile in front of it. There are a couple of black and white photographs of his family members in various frames hanging on the walls. He looks at them more closely; he can still see the faces he remembers in these older versions.

He turns back to Louis when he hears his voice. “Harry, you look--really nice. Like _really_ nice.”

Harry smiles. “Um, thanks. I--uh--didn’t know what to wear.”

“That!” Louis blurts out. “Yeah, _that_ was a good choice. Sorry though. I guess I’m a bit underdressed.”

Harry’s been so nervous he hadn’t really noticed that Louis is in joggers and a very thin white t-shirt. In fact, the t-shirt is so thin, Harry can see his tattoos through it. Fuck that’s hot. “Oh, no, that’s okay. You look--really good--like that.”

“Yeah, but you’re dressed like for a date. And I’m definitely not.”

“Oh. I thought--I mean, isn’t it--er--I’m sorry I thought--”

“Shit. Yes. I mean, if you think this is a date, then I am definitely on board with this being a date. I just didn’t dress up because we were cooking, and I figured I’d end up a mess.”

Well, fuck if Harry doesn’t want to make a mess of him now. Okay, calm down, Styles. Harry clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. We might get--messy. Um, do you have an apron?”

Louis shakes his head. “Afraid not. I could lend you an old t-shirt to wear instead if you want.”

“Um, that’s okay. I’ll just be careful.” He could never concentrate wearing any article of clothing owned by Louis. No way would his dick behave for that. “Okay, so show me to the zucchini, I guess.”

Louis leads him into the kitchen with a smirk. “You gonna help me with my zucchini, Harry?”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I sent that before I realized what it sounded like and then it was too late and I--”

“Don’t apologize.” Louis insists as he leans back on his kitchen counter. “I laughed my ass off over that text.”

Harry attempts to say something, but the soft, white fabric of Louis’ shirt stretches across the firm muscles of his chest, and Harry suddenly finds it hard to think of anything to say.

“Um--so the zucchini. There’s a lot of it.” Harry looks at the absurd number of zucchinis stacked in a box on his counter. There are a few more sitting next to the box. Harry hadn’t realized just how many zucchinis he’d given him. “I really didn’t mean to give you so many.”

“Ohhhhh, are you admitting to being my vegetable fairy then? Sneaking vegetables into my truck whenever I’m not looking?”

“I’m afraid I’m just the zucchini fairy. Maybe you have more than one vegetable fairy, if you’re getting more than just my zucchinis in your truck.”

“Nope. Just the zucchinis. Your zucchinis are quite enough for me. Don’t want anyone else’s vegetables.”

Harry sniffs. “Good to hear.”

“So what are you going to teach me to do with this zucchini, anyway?”

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got in your kitchen that we can work with. If you have flour and sugar and oil, we could probably--”

“Uh. I think I have sugar. But I don’t think I have oil, and I definitely don’t have flour.”

“Hmmm. Okay, well, how about an egg and--”

“No egg.”

“Uhhh--okay, well, what if we just start with washing and cutting the zucchini.” Harry finally decides. “Where’s the cutting board?”

“Cutting board?”

“Really, Louis? You don’t have one?

“Nope.”

“Okay, let’s just peel it first, cut it on a plate, and then maybe sautee it in butter.”

“I do have butter! And a plate! And a knife! But I don’t think I have a peeler.”

“You don’t have a peeler.” Harry restates disbelieving.

Louis hands him a small steak knife, and Harry sighs. He dutifully tries to peel the skin off with the knife, but it ends up fairly massacred by the dull blade. He’s about to try chopping it up, when he has a sinking suspicion Louis has nothing for him to cook it in.

“Do you have a large pan?”

An apologetic look crosses Louis’ handsome face. “Sorry. I just have one that’s pretty small. I use it to make a grilled cheese on.”

Harry sets the knife down. “I guess I should have asked if you had this stuff, any of the stuff you’d need to cook basically anything.”

Louis pushes back from the counter. “Are you afraid I’ve lured you here under false pretenses, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile. “Yes, I think you have, actually. You’ve got nothing here to work with!”

“Uh, I have like fifty pounds of zucchini.” Louis slides a bit closer.

Harry looks up into the sparkle of Louis’ blue eyes. “Yes, and basically no cooking utensils. Or other food.”

Louis raises both eyebrows and bites his lower lip firmly. He slides even closer until his arm is nearly touching Harry’s. “Maybe I can find a way to distract you from my failures--”

“Not failures. I mean, we could even go get some from the store right--” Louis runs a feather light touch of his fingertips against the inside of Harry’s arm and desire shoots through him, choking the words on his lips.

“Maybe we could do that later.” Louis’ voice quietly brushes against his neck, sending goosebumps chasing across his skin.

Harry braces his hands on the counter, his knees shaking. “Yes--later--is fine--uh--”

Louis glides up behind him, and he feels the press of Louis’ cool fingers just under the hem of his shirt, pressing into the skin he finds there. Harry can feel his breath growing ragged as Louis noses along the back of his neck. “Is this okay?”

Harry tries to hold in a moan. “Fuck. Yes--I--”

“Turn around, Harry.” Louis commands.

Harry turns to look at the blue fire, burning brightly in the depths of Louis’ eyes. He’s pretty sure they’re on the same page. Louis keeps their eyes locked as he begins quickly taking care of the few buttons of Harry’s shirt until it hangs open. Louis crowds him up against the counter, pressing his body against Harry’s. It’s so overwhelming to have Louis so close. He can detect the clean scent of Louis’ shampoo and the mint of his toothpaste. Louis’ lips are so close to his now, and he waits for Louis to close the distance between them. He waits wide eyed for a few seconds before he’s done waiting.

He lunges at Louis, pressing his lips against Louis’ fervently. God, he’s been waiting a decade for this; he’s done waiting a second longer. Harry moves his lips against Louis’ coaxing them open. Louis brushes his shirt from off his shoulders so that Harry’s now shirtless in the kitchen. Harry cups Louis’ face in his hands and doesn’t release him from the kiss as he backs Louis across the kitchen and into a long cupboard. He only lets go for a moment to rip Louis’ shirt up and over his head, panting. His head swims, disoriented with want.

Louis reaches for him, twisting his hair between his fingers and tugging him closer. They resume their frantic kissing until suddenly Louis wrenches his lips away, Harry chasing their absence in the air. A wave of disappointment that Louis is stopping floods his veins, but then he feels Louis’ fingers at the button of his jeans.

“This still okay?” He asks, his voice husky with lust.

Harry wants to cry with how hard his dick is right now, and he bucks up against Louis’ hand.

“Was that an answer?” Louis smirks.

“Fuck. Yes! Please--yes!”

The feel of the zipper sliding down against him makes him want to come immediately. The sight of Louis dropping to his knees isn’t helping either. Louis tugs his tight jeans down his body until they’re wrapped around his ankles. His cock just barely remains clothed by his boxers as he’s so hard that the tip threatens to peek out of the top. Louis grips his thighs, his fingers surely leaving their imprint as he trails his nose along the underside of Harry’s cock. The noises that come out of Harry’s mouth are ones he’s surely never heard before. Louis looks up at him beneath his long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing to him.

“Louis. Jesus. Fuck. Just--please--just--”

“Just what, baby?”

“Do something! Anything!” He nearly screams in long pent up frustration. Ten years is a long fucking time to want someone.

Louis eases Harry’s tight black boxer briefs slowly down over his erection, sliding it against him, as Harry gasps at the sensation, and then before Harry can process anything more, the wet, warmth of Louis’ mouth envelops him. He lets out a low moan of pleasure at the feeling of Louis’ tongue against him.

As Louis takes more of him in, he releases Harry’s thighs to grip the length of his dick that isn’t in his mouth. His cheekbones slash across his face so prominently. He’s so beautiful, it just stuns Harry stupid, really. It takes him a moment to realize that Louis has his joggers pulled down a bit and has his other hand on himself, jerking his fist furiously as he sucks down on Harry. And fuck if that isn’t what does it for Harry, the thought of Louis touching himself and turned on with Harry’s dick in his mouth.

“Lou--I’m gonna--gonna--”

Louis keeps a firm grip on both himself and Harry as he spills into Louis’ mouth, and Louis spills into his own hand. Louis pulls off and sits back on his heels as Harry sinks to the floor beside him, his jeans still trapping his ankles. They sit and smile nervous, silly smiles at each other.

“So I’ve--”

“That was--”

They both stop to let the other speak.

“--been wanting to do that since high school.”

“--the best blow job of my life.”

Louis stands up and offers a hand to him. Harry takes it even if it is a bit sticky. He hops up awkwardly and pulls his jeans back up.

“Should probably go wash up. And then, I guess we can go make zucchini?”

Harry honks out a loud laugh. “Let’s just cart all this zucchini to my apartment, and I’ll make you something. Maybe even zucchini pasta.”

Louis scrunches up his nose. “Zucchini pasta?”

“I’ve got moves you’ve never seen, Tomlinson.”

“I’d like to see them, Styles.”

///

As soon as they step inside Harry’s apartment, he feels more at ease. Well, as at ease as he can feel while Louis Tomlinson stands in his living room inspecting the books in his bookcases. He heads into the kitchen with Louis trailing along behind him. He slides an apron over his head and ties it behind his back.

“ _Beets don’t kale my vibe_? Really?” Louis asks as he reads the words on Harry’s apron.

“What? I had it custom made.” Harry says with a wink.

“Oh, I bet you did.”

Harry sets Louis to work washing zucchini, and then he shows Louis how to use his vegetable spiralizer to make the noodles. When he’s got the zucchini ‘pasta’ prepared, he quickly cooks some chicken breasts in one pan, while he gets out another for the noodles. He puts olive oil and red pepper flakes along with garlic that he shows Louis how to squeeze through a garlic press. He cooks the noodles and chicken at around the same time. He plates both parts of the meal and then grates parmesan over the top of both.

Louis is eying the meal with great interest, and when he takes his first bite, he sounds remarkably like he did as he was coming. “Oh man. Harry. This shit is delicious. And I’m not just saying this to get in your pants either.”

“Think you’ve already been in my pants.” Harry mumbles.

“True enough.” Louis says with a smirk. “Although I think I’d quite like to go back in those pants at some time in the near future.”

Harry can feel his ears burn a bit from the attention. “I’m glad you like my zucchini.”

Louis chokes a bit on the bite he’s just taken. “I do. I really do quite like your--zucchini. You know I always did, right? Well, not just your zucchini.”

“I know I started it, but can we stop saying zucchini?”

Louis laughs. “Yes, let’s stop. But seriously, Harry. I’ve never really stopped thinking about you, even after all these years. I know nothing ever happened between us, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want something to happen back then.”

Harry’s heart thrums quickly. “I wanted something then, too. God, I always admired what you were like back then. I never would have believed you were interested in me.”

“Funny you’d say that actually. You were always just being yourself. It made me want to do the same. It gave me the courage to do the same. I wish I’d taken a chance with you.”

“I wish I had taken a chance with _you_.”

“Looks like we’re getting our second chance now.”

Harry just smiles a bit shyly. He starts clearing the table and Louis helps. He loads the dishwasher and starts scrubbing the pans as he feels Louis creep up behind him at the sink and press his already hardening dick up against him.

“Is me scrubbing pans really doing it for you?”

“It really is.” Louis says his voice quiet and husky against Harry’s neck.

Harry drops the pan, soap bubbles splashing up, and turns around hoisting Louis up and over his shoulder.

“What the--”

He keeps one large, soapy hand on Louis’ backside as he carries him through his apartment.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, laughing.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to my bedroom to see more of my zucchini.”

“I thought we were done saying that.” Louis says as Harry plops him on the mattress.

“One last time. I do love a pun.”

“Obviously.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Heyyyy. I thought you liked my puns!” Harry protests. “Don’t go breakin’ my heart.”

“I won’t go breaking your heart.”

Harry’s eyes light up and not just at the words but rather because they’re the correct lyric response. He stares down at Louis sprawled across his bed. “And nobody told us.”

“‘Cause nobody showed us.”

He narrows his eyes and lets a small smile creep across his face. “And now it’s up to us, babe.”

“I think we can make it.”

Holy shit. Louis is actually singing Elton John back to him. “So don’t misunderstand me.”

“You put the light in my life.”

Harry slowly begins crawling over him. “You put the sparks to the flame.”

“I’ve got your heart in my sights.”

Harry props himself up, his palms on either side of Louis’ shoulders and stares down at this beautiful man who was once a beautiful boy and who is now suddenly within his reach.

“Nice biceps.” Louis says eying him.

“I do yoga.”

“Of course you do.”

Harry grins before he lowers himself slowly down to capture Louis’ lips between his own. Louis reaches out and pulls him down forcefully before flipping Harry onto his back. Louis straddles him and takes control, raking Harry’s apron and shirt up his body. Harry pushes up and quickly tears his shirt up and over his head, and then makes quick work of Louis’ as well.

“Nobody knows it.” Louis sings softly just before he nips along Harry’s jaw and neck.

Harry lets out a deep moan as his hips lift up, trying to find friction. Quite frankly, it’s a bit much to have Louis’ mouth on him at the same time he’s singing Elton John.

“When I was down.” He manages to choke out as Louis sit up to better unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“I was your clown.” Louis sings as he begins stroking Harry firmly in his grip.

“I don’t think I can keep singing.” Harry gasps.

“Is this okay?”

“Fuck--yes--don’t stop--”

Louis gives him a wicked grin, his eyes glittering. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Top drawer! Top drawer!” Harry shouts out.

Louis releases him just long enough to open and shut the drawer, and he very soon feels Louis’ hand back around him at the same time as a slick finger teases him. Honestly, he’s pretty close to coming just from the thought.

“More--please--Louis--now--”

Louis lets one finger sink in more deeply. “Sorry, Hazza, but I’m going to go slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry can see how harsh the lines of Louis’ face have become to show some restraint. Sweat beads on his forehead. It makes Harry feel powerful to have provoked this reaction in him. Another slick finger presses in against the other and Harry writhes at the sensation. He just wants more of Louis, always more.

“Fuck, Louis. So good--more--please--” Harry begs. “Want you. Always wanted you. Thought about this so much. Please--please--please.”

Louis’ face almost looks pained.

“Harry--” He croaks out. “God, you look beautiful like this. Jesus.”

A third, shaking finger presses in briefly and finds just where Harry had hoped they would. His pleas become a mess of inarticulate nonsense.

Louis has finally had enough of the torture as well apparently because he slides his fingers out suddenly and is sliding a condom on and slicking himself up. Harry sees stars behind his eyes as Louis slides slowly inch by inch inside him. The culmination of so many years of longing along with the otherworldly chemistry between them doesn’t allow for much more than a few wet kisses and strokes of Louis’ hand and slow thrusts before Harry is coming between them. The chant of Louis’ name on his lips. A blazing look crosses Louis’ face as only a few more thrusts have him coming as well. Louis collapses on top of him, panting into Harry’s shoulder. He mumbles something Harry doesn’t quite hear.

“What?” He asks, his mind still hazy with bliss.

“Nobody knows it.” Louis repeats. He pulls out with a groan and lays sprawled out next to him.

Harry barks out a loud honk of a laugh and crawls in next to Louis, resting his head over Louis’ heart. “Right from the start.”

“I gave you my heart.” Louis sings in the loveliest voice Harry’s ever heard as he twirls Harry’s curls between his fingers.

“I gave you my heart.” Harry echoes the final line as he closes his eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it please leave kudos or comments! And if you [reblog this fic post](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/165727723326/when-we-were-young-series-by-allwaswell16-24k) I shall love you forever!
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta, [taggiecb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb), for always holding my hand, and my wonderful friend, [Keri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikero/pseuds/kiwikero), who came up with the pun for Liam's farm's name. lol. 
> 
>  
> 
> This fic was also somewhat based on [this post on tumblr.](http://kynthaworld.tumblr.com/post/146375011041/dragoneyes-dawnthefairy-ladypandacat)


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